


I Will Be Nice And Tender

by A_M_Kelley



Series: Cliche AUs And Where To Shitpost Them [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Biting, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Ginger Sherlock, Intimacy, Kissing, Licking, M/M, Making Love, Nipple Play, Porn that tries to have plot, Teenlock, This Is STUPID, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 09:32:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is a prostitute with an indifferent view on intimacy and John is the romantic with a heart of gold that changes Sherlock's mind about love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Be Nice And Tender

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Toy Boy by Stuck in the Sound.
> 
> Sherlock is 17 in this story. I realize the age of consent is 16 in the United Kingdom but being American I can't help but use an underage tag >_>

It's become sort've routine for John. It's a weekly arrangement between him and Sherlock that he's more than willing to pay for, but here lately it's all been a waste. While this affair had initially started out hot and heavy, it began to take a turn for the worst when John just couldn't get into it anymore.

John knew the problem wasn't with him personally. Sure, John was getting up there in age but he was more than capable of getting aroused. And he knew Sherlock wasn't the problem either. If anything, Sherlock was more than stimulating in all senses of the word and even though the young man could offer him so many things there was one thing John craved more than sex itself. The one thing Sherlock refused to give him.

Intimacy.

The first time John purchased time with Sherlock the young auburn-haired man had made his personal rules clear. No talking unless necessary, no rough stuff without his consent, and absolutely NO kissing. While this initially wasn't an issue for John, it began to gnaw at his need for romance as their "relationship" progressed and he kept silent about it until now.

It started like any other night. Sherlock had shown up at his flat, scarf around his pale neck and his collar turned up against the wind. It had been raining on his way over and Sherlock neglected to bring an umbrella going by the state of his ginger locks that were still damp. He stood expectantly in John's doorway with droplets of water streaking down his young face, waiting patiently, if not a little antsy, for entry.

John really just had to stop and admire the young man for all his beauty. Those wet auburn curls sticking to his face, those little drops of water that he just wants to lick off his cheekbones, and those perfect kissable lips. It's not fair that Sherlock has a no kissing rule but it's not totally unexpected. A crying shame, really.

"You do realize that you've paid me to be more than just an object to stare at, right?" Sherlock asks rhetorically in that monotone voice of his that is completely devoid of emotion. Like he isn't here to have sex with John for money.

John mentally shakes his head and steps aside to let Sherlock in, picking up on the little huff as he strides past him. John can't help but smirk at how pretentious Sherlock can be at times, especially with his choice of profession. It's only when Sherlock yanks off his scarf does John realize what he's said. Sherlock had referred to himself as an object and it sends a pang of guilt to the pit of John's stomach. But it isn't enough to sway his choice of how he should spend his Saturday nights.

So instead of making Sherlock's remark a big deal, John lets the night proceed just like any other time before this. Sherlock's obviously made it clear that he has no allusions about what he does or why he does it. Although, John's never really understood why someone as intellectual as Sherlock would choose a profession as dangerous as this one. Did he desperately need the money or was he just bored?

After John closes the front door against the force of the wind he turns around to see Sherlock already walking down the hallway towards his bedroom. He really doesn't waste anytime, does he? Awfully prompt for a prostitute, John thinks, then again John hasn't had much experience with prostitutes other than Sherlock. It wouldn't surprise John if most prostitutes were like this.

While most people took this as eagerness John could see what it really was. It was still eagerness, of a sort, but a different kind than what would be potentially desired by a "client". Most of these young people were employed by a "representative" or "on the clock" so to speak, so it wasn't uncommon for them to work as quickly as possible. But then there were the type that probably just didn't want to stick around for too long for the sake of their remaining dignity.

But like John has said, he doesn't have much knowledge about prostitutes. Just wild shots in the dark.

John follows Sherlock's retreating shadow into his bedroom and watches the young man shrug off his coat, hanging it on a coat rack nearby. Sherlock is already unbuttoning his shirt by the time John's even thought to do the same. The young ginger haired man casts a gaze over at John when he sees the older man sit on the bed to take his shoes off.

The look isn't as admiring as John would want it to be but more along the lines of a deduction. Sherlock stares at him a lot, studies every inch of him, but John tries not to take this as a sign for something more. Sherlock probably has many clients of all ages and sizes and is simply curious as to how they differ from his own appearance.

There's still something in his eye that makes John want to think otherwise. Like how his pupils dilate ever so slightly when John opens up his front door or how his irises seem to change color at different points of their coupling. It's silly to assume that someone like Sherlock is capable of love or even intimacy, but there's no shame in hoping for a miracle, is there?

Sherlock strips down relatively fast and by the time John is barely getting his shirt off he has to stop and stare at the beauty before him. The sight of that bare body all pale and muscled in all the right places never gets old and it never seems to be enough either. It's not just the sight of Sherlock that gets John going but how he holds himself. His stance is confident and unashamed and no where near to being humble.

John is almost envious of his modesty.

John realizes that he's staring because he can see how Sherlock smirks in all his subtlety. Sherlock is completely bare for all the world to see and John is barely out of his shirt, but it's just as well. Sherlock makes his way over to John's side of the bed and drops down to his knees to assist the older man with his trousers. It's a pleasant sight but John always manages to blush a little even though he's used to this by now.

Sherlock pops the button of John's jeans open and pulls the tab of the zipper down with a grace that suggests he's done this a thousand times. And he has, John thinks idly. There isn't much gentleness in the way Sherlock pulls John's pants down, along with his underwear, but John doesn't set his standards too high these days. After all, he's paying for sex.

When his pants and underwear are down around his ankles, Sherlock wastes no time in putting his mouth around John. It takes John by surprise in the most pleasant way but it all feels too sudden. Too rushed. And it leaves John yearning for something more even as Sherlock begins to suck with embellished enthusiasm.

John tries his best to concentrate on the feeling of that warm mouth and those perfect lips around him but he can't will himself to become aroused. Sherlock spends at least a good five minutes trying to coax life into John's cock but none of his efforts stick, making him pull off prematurely, or belatedly depending on how he looked at it, with a heavy pant.

"Is this going to take much longer?" Sherlock asks with a little irritation staining his words. He switches gears and then asks almost seductively, "Do you need me to use the riding crop like last time?"

While it is a very good suggestion, John has to differ just this once.

"Maybe just..." John squirms to adjust himself better on the bed, pulling his pants off all the way "...try sucking a little harder."

Sherlock doesn't question any further and bends back down to try again. This time Sherlock even tries moaning a little, like he's enjoying this, but he doesn't particularly pull it off and so it does nothing for John. Sherlock sucks harder and manages to get John half hard but it just isn't enough for what they had in mind.

For a moment John is embarrassed by his sudden impotency but when he looks down at the auburn curled beauty that is Sherlock, he finds no judgment or belittlement in those ever changing eyes. Sherlock wipes his mouth off sith the back of his hand before standing up and sitting on the bed next to John.

It stays quiet for too long and Sherlock is aware that John wants to say something, make an excuse like most of his other clients do, but he keeps it to himself. Going by the shock on John's face, it's safe to deduce that this is the first time this has happened to John. Even though Sherlock is certain it's not his fault, he still feels the need to ask.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

John knows Sherlock only asks him this to make it seem like there's a possibility that it really isn't all his fault why he can't get aroused. The fact of the matter is John hasn't been in a proper relationship in months now and he's missing two of the perks of definite companionship. Foreplay and intimacy.

John can admit that he isn't as young and virile as Sherlock is anymore, he just needs more time. He needs more teasing and touching and kissing to get in the mood, unlike Sherlock who can just hop right to it without a second thought. John needs the prologue before he can get to the verse.

"It's not what you're doing," John clarifies, wanting to reach out and touch Sherlock but refraining. "It's what you're not doing."

Sherlock quickly assesses John's statement and goes through all the things John may be referring to, finding little enthusiasm for the end result. Sherlock looks away and almost sounds a little regretful when he crushes John's silent plea for pity.

"John, I've told you before that there are some things I don't do. And I really can't make any exceptions..." He watches John bite his lip, holding some sort of emotion back. "Look, I can come back next week and--"

"Please," John murmurs, almost pitifully. "Please..."

"John, I--"

"I'll pay extra. I'll even understand it if you don't want to see me again."

The raw emotion of John's admission hits a soft spot inside of Sherlock, though it's a place buried quite deep inside of him. Sherlock almost feels sorry for John but it isn't enough to have Sherlock caving, although it's enough to at least hear John's request out. He owes the man that much.

"I'll pay you double if that's what you want," John tells him, fully ready to make that leap if he absolutely has to but it's not swaying Sherlock.

"John, it really isn't about the money..."

"I'll triple it!" John vows, turning fully to John now and he doesn't bother to mask his vulnerability.

"I told you I can't," Sherlock whispers, being honest in all the bitterness it brings. He never thought he'd feel so much for a stranger but John is stripped bare, in more ways than one.

"Why?" John simply asks, suddenly serious with his plight long forgotten. "Why are you so against kissing?"

"It's too intimate," Sherlock gushes, cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. Not out of embarrassment but because of the hint of challenge in John's voice. "Intimacy is for couples who are in love. But we're not a couple. I'm just someone you pay to have sex with so you don't feel lonely."

It all rushes out so suddenly without a second thought as to the repercussions but even as Sherlock stares wide-eyed at John he finds no malice or resentment to the statement. They both know it's true so there's no point in sugar coating it. John simply chuckles ruefully to himself.

"You were just trying to suck me off and you think kissing is too intimate?" John asks skeptically, laughing even harder. "What is it like in your funny little brain?"

Sherlock has a comeback for John's assumption but he is at a loss for words when John suddenly cups the side of his face, wiping away a drop of water off his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. Sherlock freezes up and clenches his jaw at the caring touch. It's far too warm, too intimate, too close.

"Sounds to me like you're the lonely one," John observes, hoping he's right. He caresses Sherlock's face softly, keeping eye contact. "I could love you. All you have to do is let me."

Sherlock is left dumbfounded when John picks him up in his arms and sets him in his lap. Their bare bodies are pressed against each other, much like any other encounter between them, but this is different. John cups Sherlock's face with both of his hands and pulls him forward, kissing Sherlock sweetly on those perfect lips without hesitation. And John thinks that, yes, this does feel right, he just needs to prove it to Sherlock as well.

So far Sherlock hasn't pushed him away, so John takes that as a good omen to press onward. He kisses Sherlock again, just as sweetly as the first time, and runs a hand through his still damp curls. John tangles his hand in Sherlock's hair and pushes him into the kiss more, making Sherlock gasp enough to let John invade his mouth with his tongue.

It takes Sherlock by surprise momentarily to the point where he surrenders more than he really would, but it's welcome. This was the reason why Sherlock made it a rule to not get overly intimate with clients, because of men like John. Sherlock has met men like John before who said sweet things and ended up not meaning any of it. Never again would that happen, Sherlock told himself, but John... He was different. Or at least Sherlock hoped so.

John broke free from the kiss and Sherlock made a small put off noise, making John smile just before he bent his head to kiss Sherlock's throat. Sherlock let his legs fall to either side of John's thighs and arched into the contact more, craving it. John licked a line up the ginger haired man's throat, stopping to kiss his lips once again.

"Let me love you," John whispers into Sherlock's ear. He licks the shell of Sherlock's ear before biting it, not hard but not exactly gentle either. "I'll be so gentle and tender with you that you'll never want to see another man for the rest of your life."

And with that, Sherlock melts under John's promises of affection.

"Oh, God, yes," Sherlock pants, letting himself go when John bites the side of his neck lovingly and soothes it with a lick.

It's all the consent John needs to hear as he lays Sherlock down gently against the mattress. And while it's nothing new, John has to say that Sherlock looks even more beautiful sprawled out beneath him now than he ever has simply because he was allowed to be more intimate.

John starts off slow like he's always wanted to and he takes his time with Sherlock, licking and kissing and biting his way over Sherlock's pale body. He captures a patch of skin along the stretch of Sherlock's neck and latches onto it, sucking hard as his tongue licks tenderly to soothe the sting. Sherlock whimpers helplessly, pressing his body into John's as he hardens at the tender sensations.

John runs a hand up the expanse of Sherlock's chest, letting his fingertips brush over a nipple softly. Sherlock makes a silly noise that is caught between a gasp and a moan. This prompts John to do it again and again until he just straight up pinches Sherlock's nipple. It sends tendrils of arousal down Sherlock's spine and pools just below his stomach.

Sherlock has remained mostly unaffected by their coupling so far but John is touching and caressing with his hands and mouth and it's just all too much for Sherlock to bear. He hardens promptly when John sucks more loving bruises into his collarbone and this time when Sherlock arches he can feel something stiff and hot brush his erection.

John is just as aroused as he is and that makes Sherlock's heart fill with a sense of pride unlike any of their previous encounters because Sherlock knows John isn't aroused by what he's doing. John is turned on because Sherlock is turned on. Because Sherlock's pleasure is just as important as John's.

Sherlock wraps his arms around John's neck and pulls him closer, wanting more contact only John can provide him with. There are a few remaining droplets from Sherlock's drying auburn hair that have set up camp on his cheekbones, begging to be wiped away. So John does the next best thing, bending down to lick away the drops of water as Sherlock writhes beneath him wantonly

"Please take me, John,",Sherlock begs breathlessly when John bites his throat to suck another bruise into his pale white skin. "I can't take it anymore. Make love to me."

If this was any other time Sherlock would've said "fuck me", which sounded unnatural coming out of him but he assumed it's what guys liked to hear, but the fact that Sherlock said "make love" instead made John's body swell tightly beneath his skin. And who was John to deny Sherlock any further?

John grabbed Sherlock's thighs and hooked his legs around his waist, spreading Sherlock open fully as he entered him with a gentle thrust. Sherlock moans loudly, more loud than he's ever let on, and John takes this as a sign of Sherlock finally being honest with what he feels during sex. Sherlock's head is thrown back to the point where his neck is arched, bearing all the teeth marks and bruises John sucked into his skin just moments before.

When John is fully inside of him he reels back to look down at Sherlock in all his glory. His eyes trail along the expanse of Sherlock's pale body, eying the lovely shade of pink as a blush washes over him and admiring his handiwork on Sherlock's neck. Sherlock's lips are curled into a euphoric "O" and John can't resist the urge to kiss those lips again.

Sherlock is tight and inviting just like any other time, welcoming John to use him any way he wants, but this time going slow and enjoying every push and pull his body has to offer. And comparing all the other times to this moment wouldn't do either of them any justice simply because this is perfection in it's purest form and that form is Sherlock.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are like this," John admires with a far off tone, thrusting gently into Sherlock like lovers do. "So perfect. So needy. It's like you're being torn apart for wanting this."

"John..." Sherlock whines as he claws at John's back, begging for more.

Being told he's beautiful makes him blush an even deeper red but he figures he can get used to it. John smiles and claims Sherlock's lips once again in a tender kiss as he makes love to the ginger haired man slowly until both men are on the verge of bursting from being trapped in their bodies. But they both hang on until the climactic end when their bodies just give out from a mix of pleasure and exhaustion.

And if Sherlock hangs onto John too tightly that night it's because he never wants to let go of something he could've had all along.


End file.
